Chapter 10 #2
When at last he escorted her back into the house she looked at him for a moment, wishing to make some gesture to show how much she had received. The interlude had done him good too. She did not think she was deluding herself in that.
She contented herself with a light kiss on his cheek and let him go.
Nicholas drove over to Lord Middlethorpe’s and sank with a groan into a chair. “Francis, I’m going to go mad!”
“I’m not surprised. What’s happened now?” asked his friend, thrusting a brandy into his hand.
“Eleanor,” said Nicholas, taking a deep swallow. “I think her patience is giving out. I can’t blame her, but I could wish she could hold on for a few days yet.”
Lord Middlethorpe regarded Nicholas with concern. As much as Eleanor he had noticed the toll all this was taking on him. “It is close, then?”
“It’s all arranged, but Therese keeps to this obsession of taking me with her. I daren’t weaken at this point or we could lose all. I can scarcely bear to touch her,” he said with a shudder.
Lord Middlethorpe came over and rested a strengthening hand on his friends shoulder. “It’s Eleanor?”
Nicholas sighed. “Of course. I’ve never known this before, Francis. I’ve no interest in any other woman. I even dream of her … I suppose it must be love, but it’s a damnable time to catch the affliction.”
Lord Middlethorpe laughed at the despairing complaint but could think of nothing to say.
“Do you know,” said Nicholas, “I think of her constantly? I can hardly bear to be in the house when she’s there, because the need to seek her company is overwhelming. Sometimes she comes in search of me and it’s all I can do to escape…”
“Have you thought of telling her the whole?”
Nicholas gave a bark of bitter laughter. “Dear Eleanor,” he parodied, “excuse me while I go off and make mad passionate love in a number of novel, and occasionally disgusting, ways to a woman I hate. You don’t mind, do you, my dear? It is, after all, for the good of our country.”
Lord Middlethorpe colored at this speech. He didn’t like to think of what Nicholas had to do as that woman’s plaything. “It might be less painful for her. At least the fact that you hate Therese.”
Nicholas sank his head into his hands. “I can’t, Francis. I just can’t.”
The mantle clock marked the passage of silence, and then Nicholas added, his voice muffled by his hands, “Each time I go to Therese I wonder if I will be able to go through the motions for her. I think I hope that despite my best efforts I’ll fail.
” He gave a choked laugh. “I never do. Such bravery in the face of the enemy! Do you think they’ll give me a medal? ”
Lord Middlethorpe tightened his hand. It was all he could do.
“Do you know, Francis,” said Nicholas in an almost conversational manner, lifting his face, drawn and pale and with the glimmer of wetness near his eyes, “it has occurred to me it would be fitting retribution if my vaunted virility left me when I’m finally free to seek Eleanor’s bed.”
“You don’t deserve retribution, Nick,” said Lord Middlethorpe firmly. “Don’t torment yourself. You are suffering enough to wipe away any number of sins. And,” he added with a slight smile, “such a fate would hardly be fair to Eleanor, now would it?”
Nicholas laughed shakily. “No, I don’t suppose it would. Do you wish I’d never involved you in this?”
“No, of course not. Though I would prefer to be in the country by now. I could wish you had never become involved—and Eleanor, certainly—but not, to be honest, if the consequence were to be another war.”
Nicholas took a deep breath. “No. That’s the point, isn’t it? Thank you. I think you’ve given me the strength to endure one or two more nights. And then, God willing, this whole ghastly mess will be over.”
“God willing,” assented Lord Middlethorpe, and then persuaded his friend to lie down and rest on his bed for a while.
Two days later Sir Lionel again joined Eleanor on her morning walk. She should change her route or her time so as to be less predictable.
“My dear sister. Such a delightful picture of felicity.”
“My dear brother. You are, alas, a picture of dissipation.”
“Drowning my sorrows, Nell,” he said. “I think of poor little Deborah constantly.”
“Her fortune more like,” Eleanor responded dryly.
“Both, both. Alas, both gone. Which brings me nicely to the subject of my fortune.”
Eleanor braced herself for trouble. “I have already said I will not lend you money. My husband wouldn’t allow it.”
He gave a little laugh. “So strict a husband. So obedient a wife. But wouldn’t a dutiful wife wish to safeguard her husband against himself?”
“What do you mean?” Eleanor felt relief. He was going to tell her about Madame Bellaire and offer to help to disentangle Nicholas. He would catch cold at it, and she would enjoy the situation.
He glanced back to make sure Jenny, a few steps behind, was out of earshot.
“My dear Eleanor,” he said, sotto voce, “your husband is up to his neck in a Napoleonic plot. No, no, do not gape so. I know of what I speak. I, for my sins, am also involved. Madame Bellaire, of whom I am sure you know, is one of the principals. She is coordinating activities in this country, but the plot spreads throughout the continent, the world even.”
He took in her astonished, incredulous expression. “You do not believe it. You will if you think about it. Your husband has been neglecting you, and even I have to admit he’s not the man to be so crass merely for another woman, any woman. But for a dream, an ideal?”
Eleanor was stunned, but it did seem to provide an explanation for the state of affairs. At the same time it was ridiculous. “Who would want Bonaparte back?” she asked.
“Many people for many reasons, both selfish and idealistic. But not me. I’m sick of the whole business and I plan to betray the plot. I will do so without involving your husband for ten thousand pounds.”
At the figure, Eleanor’s heart almost stopped. It was a fortune. Then she remembered it was her brother making this proposal. There had to be a trick to this. “If I tell Nicholas what you’ve said he would stop you from revealing anything.”
He was not disconcerted. “Perhaps, but I have left documents with friends. Besides, I thought you had always been so patriotically against Napoleon. And would you not like to see your husband free of Madame Bellaire’s web?”
Eleanor resolutely ignored the last part of his speech and concentrated on the plot. “Of course I’m anti-Napoleon. However, I can’t imagine Nicholas supporting that monster and I don’t have ten thousand pounds.”
There was a short pause as he assessed her state of mind. “You do, however, have a remarkable string of pearls.”
Eleanor stared at him in horror. “You want me to steal the pearls?”
“I am sure your husband will consider them of less worth than his life.”
Eleanor knew she would give the pearls, the house, everything, to ensure Nicholas’s safety, but then she ruthlessly called to mind her brother’s lifelong perfidy.
“I won’t do it, Lionel. I’m convinced this is a farrago of nonsense. I’ll speak to you no longer.”
He smiled confidently. “Think it over. I will be here tomorrow at the same time. If you change your mind, Nell, bring the pearls. Strictly payment in advance. If you don’t, you’d best order your widow’s weeds.”
Eleanor gasped under this blow. Numbly she stood and watched as her brother sauntered away. She hated him. He terrified her. She knew Lionel would be willing to send Nicholas to the gallows for a pocketful of silver, never mind a fortune.
As they walked home Jenny was obviously concerned at her distress. “You don’t look well, ma’am. Should you not sit and rest?”
“No, I must go home, Jenny. It is just that my brother upsets me. We always fight.”
Eleanor tried to make her tone light, but she knew Jenny was concerned and would doubtless report this to Nicholas.
Then what would happen? After that happy drive she could go to her husband and tell him of her dealings with her brother, but not until she had sorted this latest twist into some kind of sense.
“Well, ma’am,” said the maid, seemingly in tune with her mistress’s thoughts, “if I were you, I’d tell the master. He’d soon send your brother to the right about.”
Eleanor faced the girl. “Jenny, I am fine. And I do not wish this reported back to Mr. Delaney.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the maid sulkily.
Eleanor wondered if she would be obeyed.
Once home, Eleanor went to her boudoir to think, quite unaware of other activities in the house.
Nicholas was in the study with Tom Holloway, who had slipped in to make his report on Eleanor’s morning walk.
“Well?” asked Nicholas curtly.
“Sir Lionel met with her again. They seemed to argue, but he didn’t look put out.”
“Did she try to get rid of him?”
“Didn’t seem that way to me, Nick.”
Nicholas sighed. “I see. Well, I hope he can’t make too much trouble before tomorrow. Can you get around and tell everyone to meet at Cavanagh’s rooms tonight at nine? Good.”
After Tom Holloway had left Nicholas stood for a moment staring out of the window, one finger tapping idly on the windowsill. Then he rang and sent for Jenny.
He told her to sit. “Jenny. I know you are devoted to my wife, but I must ask you if you know anything of the matters discussed this morning between her and her brother.”
“No, sir. I couldn’t hear.” Jenny kept her eyes firmly down.
“Did you hear anything at all?”
The maid fidgeted. “She asked me most particular not to tell you, sir.”
“And I say you must, Jenny. My wife’s safety may depend upon it.”
After a moment Jenny gave in. “Well, sir, I truly didn’t hear much, but Mrs. Delaney raised her voice once or twice.
I think she said, ‘This is ridiculous,’ and then something about Bonaparte.
That’s all, sir, but she was very upset and she’s sitting up there in her room as she always does when she’s upset about something. ”